


A Tale of Two Princess

by LeBibish



Category: Cinderella - Fandom, Fairy Tales - Fandom, Snow-White
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-24
Updated: 2009-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeBibish/pseuds/LeBibish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a girl was poorly treated by her evil step-mother. With the help of a little magic, she grew up to marry Prince Charming. More than one story follows this pattern but do all happily ever afters end the same way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Two Princess

Disclaimer: Neither of these fairy tales belong to me. I would also like to thank my amazing and wonderful beta, Qai, for her patience and effort.

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, a prince was born. His joyful parents named him Prince Charming and his birth was celebrated throughout the land. By a strange coincidence, in a neighboring kingdom, around the same time, another prince was born and he too was named Charming.

Both kingdoms were fairly small but prosperous and the royal families made a practice of visiting each other regularly. The two princes grew up together and became friends rather easily. It was on one of these visits that the newly-married Snow-White was introduced to Cinderella, who had only been married for a month herself.

Snow-White and Cinderella bonded instantly. It was not, as many thought, over jealous step-mothers and magical romances—though they knew each other’s stories well. In fact, everyone around them was so eager to swoon and sigh over the love stories that the two princesses rarely wanted to speak about them to each other. Nor was it because of the friendship shared by their respective Prince Charmings, as those two gentlemen believed.

Instead, the connection was sparked when Cinderella absently mentioned, while touring Snow-White’s castle, that the maid washing the floor must be new, since she obviously didn’t know all the tricks yet. Cinderella gracefully knelt down on the cold floor to show the hapless servant the proper method of scrubbing uneven stone. The ladies-in-waiting were horrified but Snow-White’s face showed a spark of interest for the first time since curtsying a welcome to the visitors.

“Oh, yes.” She chimed in. “Actually, you’re using too much soap. It makes the floor duller when there’s a lot there. And if you kneel on a thick cloth, you can keep your apron from getting wet and soak up some of the excess water as well.” Snow-White’s mother-in-law blushed. The two Queens commiserated with each other over their hopeless daughters-in-law while the princesses exchanged a conspiratorial smile.

After that, the two young women visited each other often. They did not spend much time on the usual pursuits of young ladies of their class. Cinderella, for one, hated embroidery and couldn’t paint if her life depended on it. Snow-White couldn’t bear hawking and always cried whenever the birds caught anything. Both girls did enjoy singing but they found the songs extolling the virtues of courtly love, which were popular with the aristocracy, boring and lifeless.

Instead, they went on picnics where they exchanged the recipes and house-keeping tips that they were no longer allowed to use. They moaned about the heaviness of the gowns they were expected to wear and teased each other over the elaborate headdresses their mothers-in-law insisted on.

Cinderella stole a couple of servant’s dresses from the laundry and the two would sometimes sneak, giggling and barefoot, to the village market. Stripped of their jewels and brocade dresses, they were never recognized. They wandered the village and fields together, until they grew tired and then, holding hands and singing the homey songs they heard in the square, they would walk slowly back to the castle.

The Queens insisted that the new princesses take lessons—etiquette, statesmanship, dancing, riding—things that ladies of royal families were taught from birth. Cinderella blossomed under the attention of her tutors. Graceful and gracious, she managed to win the hearts of even the most conservative of the kingdom’s courtiers.

Snow-White’s experiences as a princess were not as pleasant. She found her tutors dull and their lessons pointless. Knowing she would never be able to convince her mother-in-law, Snow-White tried to talk to her husband. The conversation did not go well.

A few days later, while the princes bonded over hunting, Snow White recounted the experience to Cinderella. “He’s so incredibly pompous! It’s like talking to a wall, except one with an ego the size of a castle that can’t stop talking about himself.”

“Then,” Cinderella smiled, “it’s nothing at all like talking to a wall?”

Snow-White grinned as well. “I suppose. But really, love, you cannot imagine how awful it is. Your husband at least spoke with you before you married. My own merely saw me lying in that thrice-cursed glass coffin. He wants not a wife but a pretty doll that will smile and wave and produce an heir on demand.”

Cinderella was sympathetic for hers was a kind nature and she loved her friend dearly. Still, she didn’t entirely understand Snow White. Their stories started out similarly, two young ladies spoiled by their fathers only to be treated as drudges by their step-mothers. However, much of their lives had been distinct and their dreams had been shaped by different experiences.

Cinderella had been rescued by her prince from her servant’s life. She went from sweeping ashes and caring for people who hated and belittled her straight to being a beloved princess. Moreover, she had found that she was good at being a princess. The people loved her and even the Queen, a strict and disapproving mother-in-law, admitted that the beautiful girl had potential. Life in the palace was everything Cinderella had dreamed of, especially with Snow-White there as confidante and co-conspirator for the occasional escapade.

Snow-White, on the other hand, had found a happy life with the dwarves long before her prince had saved her from her step-mother’s evil plot. She had enjoyed the freedom of the woods and the companionship of the dwarves and forest creatures. Cooking and cleaning for people she loved, who loved her and were appreciative of her efforts was, Snow-White had learned, a very different prospect than doing such chores for her cruel step-mother.

Snow-White missed having dinner with the dwarves. She missed watching the little men gobble down the simple fare she had prepared. She missed listening to conversations about the mines or the bear that wandered into their site and ate all of their lunches. She missed telling people who cared about her day—the frustration of trying to keep the rabbits out of the garden or the simple happiness of listening to a bird song as she washed the laundry. She missed the smell of baking bread and the feeling of dough in her fingers.

Cinderella watched, worried, as Snow-White grew more and more despondent. She took time out from her own lessons to cheer her friend up, arranging riding trips into the forest. She set up more picnics and would watch, entranced, as Snow-White made friends with the local animals. The two girls would stay up late into the night talking, playing silly games, or simply holding each other. In the company of her friend, Snow White could occasionally be coaxed in cheerfulness but she was more and more discontent.

A year after the two girls met, the Royal doctors informed the King and Queen that Cinderella was _enceinte_. The entire kingdom rejoiced and everyone in the palace treated the young princess as delicately as a spun sugar confection. Snow-White baked her friend a cake—a difficult endeavor since the palace cooks were extremely reluctant to allow any of the aristocracy into their domain.

As Cinderella was no longer allowed to leave the castle grounds without a heavy escort, the two girls set up a picnic in one of the less visited gardens. Royal Guards lurked at every entrance, only just barely out of hearing.

“I cannot live like this anymore.” Snow-White said, stabbing at her slice of cake. “I want to go back to the dwarves.”

Cinderella’s face crumpled unhappily. “Oh, but darling, surely if you just give it a little more time, it will improve.”

“No. It has been a year! I may have been born royalty but I am not suited to it. It is not simply the trappings and discomfort of this life that I abhor. I refuse to live with that pompous boor and his overbearing parents another night!”

At this declaration, Cinderella sat back in surprise. “I thought you loved your husband, for all his failings. Was not the sorceress’s spell to be broken by true love’s kiss?”

Whenever they had discussed their stories, Snow White had always skipped over the part where the prince woke her from her magical sleep, focusing instead on life with her step-mother or with the dwarves. Cinderella had wondered about it occasionally, but she hadn’t wanted to press her friend too much.

Snow-White shook her head. “The prince did not kiss me then. Or, if he did, I do not wish to know such, since he believed me dead at the time. Rather, the cursed apple lodged in my throat. When my lord sought to transport my remains, I felt the bite loose and I was freed. He is no true love of mine.”

Cinderella bit her lip, frightened at the idea of losing her friend. If the young woman was serious in her desire to escape and find the little cottage in the woods—“And yet, if you wish to leave, will not the dwarves’ cottage be the first place your husband searches for you?”

Snow-White turned to her friend, and her eyes burned with determination. “Indeed, His Royal Highness will not suffer the humiliation of a runaway bride. He would tear the world apart searching, if only to preserve his honor. And so, my only path to freedom is through death.”

“No!” Cinderella gasped and reached over to shake her friend. “You cannot mean that! I absolutely forbid it!”

A slow smile spread over Snow-White’s face. “It will save my husband’s pride and my own sanity.”

“But not mine!”

Snow-White blinked then laughed. “Oh, dearest one, do not worry so. I do not mean it to be a true death. The witch’s apple has stayed preserved these many months. I will take a small bite, so as to appear dead. My husband, relieved to be rid of his recalcitrant wife, shall entomb me promptly. Beforehand, you and I shall hire some discreet mercenaries to rescue my body from the Royal tomb. Then you have but to jostle me enough to dislodge the apple. And I shall be free.”

Although Cinderella protested vociferously, she could not deny her friend’s happiness, and events unfolded much as Snow-White planned. The prince was indeed quick to bury his wife and within weeks was rumored to be courting a more conventional princess from a nearby kingdom. Carefully selected pieces of the princesses’ jewelry paid for some suitably close-mouthed mercenaries who were able get in and out of the Royal Tomb without any trouble. Cinderella had significantly more trouble escaping her own concerned guards but she managed well enough with some help from her fairy godmother.

The mercenaries left Snow-White’s body in the clearing where the dwarves had once erected a glass shrine for her. They were gone before Cinderella arrived. Dressed in the worn servant’s clothing she had stolen so long ago, she almost fell off her horse in her hurry to reach her friend. The clearing seemed to glow, a warm contrast to the deep shadows of the forest around it. In the center of the clearing, Snow-White lay, her dark hair spread out across the grass like a shroud. Cinderella had hoped that the ride from the tomb to the forest would loosen the spell, but Snow-White lay too still and pale for that hope to last.

Cinderella tried everything she could imagine to awaken her dear friend. She shook Snow-White, hit her in the stomach, turned her over and shook her again, and even slapped her a few times. Finally, weeping, Cinderella slumped over the cold body and her dignified tears collapsed into violent sobs. When her eyes burned with salty tears and her throat was raw with screams, she turned again to Snow-White. Gently, Cinderella rolled Snow-White onto her back again, then smoothed out the wrinkles from her dress and brushed the dirt from her hair.

Cinderella gazed at her friend’s pale face. Slowly, and with the kind of grace that comes only from action uncomplicated by thought, Cinderella kissed familiar, blood-red lips.

Cheeks as white as snow suddenly blushed with a healthy rosiness. Blue eyes blinked open—closed—and open again. Snow-White smiled sweetly at her own true love. Lying on the forest floor, smudged and rumpled, Cinderella thought she had never looked more beautiful.


End file.
